


Clandestine

by radxmauls



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Breaking the Jedi Code (Star Wars), Cunnilingus, Edging, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Force Mind Reading (Star Wars), Force Visions (Star Wars), Kissing, Master/Padawan Kink, Oral Sex, Praise Kink, Rough Sex, Sex Pollen, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-18 15:55:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29860488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/radxmauls/pseuds/radxmauls
Summary: Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi decided to wander into an uncharted, mystery forest. You're a Jedi Knight who has never been his biggest fan, so you're not entirely thrilled when the council send you out to go find him. Once there, you end up in a separatist trap - and quickly uncover the exact medicinal purpose of the pollen falling from the strange trees surrounding you...It forces you to confront feelings you have always fought to bury. Feelings that you are absolutely not allowed to have, and desires you just can't fight any longer.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Reader, Obi-Wan Kenobi/You
Comments: 6
Kudos: 100





	1. Tarnished

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I've always wanted to write something for Obi-Wan - but I didn't imagine this little idea growing into a two chapter fic that might be one of the smuttiest I've ever written. 
> 
> Just a warning in case you didn't read the tags - this does include the Master/Padawan kink, but I want to state that Obi-Wan is not the reader's Master and never was.

“This is all your fault!”

“My-- _what_?”

Oh, so _this_ is what it takes for you to finally render the Negotiator speechless? _Really?_ After every snide remark you’ve thrown his way. After _years_ of watching him respond with that calm, serene smile and polite words that always make your blood boil-- _this_ is what gets a reaction? The realisation alone is enough to pull an unfamiliar and somewhat too high-pitched laugh from your chest. Finally. Finally, you’ve got a satisfying response from him. If only it didn't take you both getting captured to bring you success.

“I fail to see the humour in our predicament,” he snaps scathingly, and when you meet his eyes they’re almost incandescent with frustration.

“This was supposed to be a simple supply run!” You suddenly bark, losing all sense of your Jedi serenity as you glare at him. “Simple is never enough for you though, is it?”

“I am a Master of the Council, _Knight_. It would do you well to remember that--”

“Oh, it’s something that I am all too familiar with - it makes our situation that much more embarrassing! You just had to come out into the forest, didn’t you? Just _had_ to abandon your post - and men - in favour of exploration! I have a padawan I should be training, _Master Jedi_ , and instead I have been sent out here by the other council members because they were concerned you had been attacked by a Separatist fleet-- but no, Master Kenobi just decided to take a walk into an unknown forest _despite_ having a job to do. The great Master Kenobi decided to get lost in said forest, and now the great Jedi Master has led us straight into a _trap_!”

You're breathless by the time you’ve finished your rant. Both of you are covered in dirt and thick dustings of the strange, orange pollen that practically drip from the unfamiliar flowers rising up into the sky… Part of you has to admit that you found yourself quite taken by the flora of this strange, outer-rim moon. It is easy to understand why Kenobi had felt a pull to step out and explore it in a little more depth. 

It’s a beautiful planet, in a terrifying sort of way. The flowers start off similar to the rough bark most trees possess throughout the galaxy, but instead of the usual presence of leaves - huge flowers bloom from their upper branches. They remind you of the small, carnivorous plant your former Master keeps in his quarters at the Jedi temple… Only these flowers range from being the size of your leg to the size of Obi-Wan twice over. You had been concerned that the plants _had_ eaten him upon your arrival, but a quick search with the force confirmed that he was very much alive. They have made no move to attack at all. No. The only irritating thing about them is the pollen. It coats the dirt in a strangely similar way to snow, and when you try to wipe it from your robes it paints the beige tunics orange.

He should have had the sense to _not_ wander in here. It was irrational and impulsive, and now you’re stuck. You try your commlink again to no avail. Something - or _someone_ \- is blocking your signal. The shield that has been thrown up around you must have something to do with it. The dome-like energy beam has the pair of you encompassed from all sides. You can feel it humming in the force, and occasionally catch sight of it shimmering in the corner of your eye.

You turn your gaze to Kenobi. He hasn’t spoken since your outburst, which is highly unlike the typically quick-witted man. That wit is partly why you actively avoid him, though you now feel unnerved by the near-silence. He blinks with a start as your eyes meet and hastily turns his back to you - but not before you catch the flush in his cheeks.

“What's wrong?” 

“Nothing,” he snaps, suddenly fascinated by the blood-red vine entangled around the nearest tree. 

“Doesn't look like nothing,” you fold your arms defiantly. “Looks a lot like you’re avoiding me. Usually that’d _thrill_ me, but if we’re gonna be stuck here it’s probably best that we don't get all passive aggressive with each other.”

“Ironic,” he snorts, “You are usually extremely open to such a notion.”

You stop pacing upon hearing that, and blink as you continue to stare at his back. He is covered in the pollen too, though no beige is left on his tunics. The colour clashes garishly with his auburn hair, which has fallen out of its usual tidy style after spending over twenty-four standard hours lost in this strange place. 

“Why _did_ you come in here, anyway?”

You force a more understanding tone into your voice, and are rewarded by him tilting his head towards you. You still can’t see his face, but at least he’s warming up to the idea.

“I have come across these plants before, in the archives. I remembered that they are used for medicinal purposes, though their exact use evaded me. I was… I should not have let my curiosity lure me here. I apologise.”

He’s giving you the upper hand? You’re dumbfounded. Completely taken aback by the defeatist edge to his demeanour… and yet you find this worse. Worse than his air of confidence and silver tongued remarks. You let out a huff and drop to the ground.

“What are you doing?” He murmurs. He might be facing you now. You don't know, and you don't care. You close your eyes and reach out to the force. You don't want to argue with him. You need to ground yourself - to reconnect with the force. When Kenobi senses this his voice becomes sharp. “No! Don’t--”

Your attempt at meditation backfires, and you immediately realise why he had tried to stop you. You realise why emotion seems to be clouding his actions in a way he would never usually allow them to do so. He clearly hasn’t been able to connect with the force in the manner a Jedi is used to. Of course, you knew that the tree-flowers were force sensitive as soon as you reached out to look for Kenobi. What you _didn't_ anticipate was that they would have such a powerful command of it. 

_We see you_.

The voice is disembodied, and comes to you as an external thought rather than audible sound. A projection into your own mind.

The next projection sucks the air from your chest.

In your mind's eye, you are straddling the bare waist of Obi-Wan Kenobi. You are as naked as he is, and though this is clearly a vision - you can feel the warmth of his hips against your inner thighs. You run your hands down his arms slowly; feeling his smooth skin and the soft hair covering him under your gentle touch. You gasp breathlessly, suddenly realising what you’re doing - where you are and with whom.

 _We see what you desire_ , the projection adds.

Then, Obi-Wan says your name.

You stop, and a shiver runs down your spine as it drips from his lips like syrup. His voice is bassy and rough; breathless and wanton as his piercing blue eyes watch you with reverence. Then, before you can make sense of it, you’re launching yourself forward. Hungry in a way you have never felt before. Instead of pangs in your stomach, it seems to be on _fire_ \- spreading an ache to the apex of your thighs that pulls a whine from your throat. It doesn't matter where you are or how you got here. All you know is the hand at the back of your neck that pulls you down towards him, down to where you will be able to--

You let out a shuddered breath as you suddenly come back to yourself. You’re kneeling in the thick pollen - hands buried in it’s soft, dust-like texture, in a near similar position to that you saw in your vision… Only, Kenobi is not beneath you. You are both dressed, and he’s watching you with heavy concern.

“I tried to warn you.”

You know now. You know what these plants are. What their ‘medicinal purpose’ is. From the colour of his face, you’re certain Kenobi does too - that he quickly learned the hard way what these plants are used for. It explains why he hasn't attempted to use the force to guide himself back to the camp. That was… Stars, it was _maddening_. You don’t say a word as you unlatch the bottle from your utility belt and take a gulp of water. It does nothing to stop your hands from trembling, but it helps relieve the bulk of the dryness in your throat.

“Have you ever been captured in a device like this?” You ask, glancing around for shimmers in the forcefield so that you have an excuse to _not_ meet his eyes. You can feel him watching you, though. 

“No, I have not. I admit this place has… lessened my attunement with the force. Typically, such a trap would be easy enough to detect before it could be sprung - though I daresay you already know that.”

“I do,” you nod. It must have started affecting you in some way, too, because you hadn't noticed it - and that was before the vision that seemed intent on melting your insides. “So I suppose we just… wait?”

“I am confident this is a separatist trap. The battle droids will have likely been tasked with laying them down. It’s an excellent, tactical move for them. The mind-altering effects of these plants will distract clones, sentients - and any force-sensitives specifically - that are unfortunate enough to spend too long surrounded by them.”

“For an army of idiot programming it is a pretty smart move,” you hum in agreement. “I suppose this explains why they sent you on this mission.”

“Excuse me?”

He looks affronted, and completely confused as to the meaning of your words. The swell of pride at once again breaking through his calm exterior tugs your lips into a smirk.

“Well, the rest of the council had clearly hoped you would be bold enough to go wandering off into the woods. Surely this is the perfect location for a droid factory? It would explain the need for this security. They were never going to outright _ask_ someone to walk into a place like this, but if anyone is foolish enough to ‘accidentally’ uncover a factory - it would be you.”

“And yet they asked it of you, too.” He raises a brow and grins, “Evidently the Council concluded that you are so stubborn that not even a challenge like this would deter you.”

It sounds like a compliment to you, and yet the tone of his words and gleam in his eyes states otherwise.

“What's that supposed to mean?” You snap. “That I am determined? I am pleased you think so highly of me, Master.”

The amusement drains from his face so quick that it near enough gives you whiplash. Even with the beard, you can easily make out how his jaw tightens and teeth grind. The colour re-blooms in his cheeks… but he doesn't turn away, and this time you get to watch as a tinge of desperation enters his eyes.

“Please, don’t call me that. You never call me that.”

You frown at the odd request.

“Not a moment ago you were keen to remind me that you are a Master of the Council, and now you want me to forget?”

“Stars, _please_ just attempt to have an understanding of what is going on outside of your own mind!” He snarls - angry glower and all. Oh, but it is so much fun to watch him lose control.

“Yes, Master. Whatever you command.”

He closes his eyes as he chokes on a breath. You're drawn to the way his Adam's apple bobs as he swallows, and realisation dawns on you just a moment too late… Kriffing hell, he-- hearing you call him Master is taunting him. Igniting the flames of the same hunger you felt in your own vision. 

“Stars, I-- sorry, I didn't--”

“Of course you didn’t,” he snaps icily, “For an excellent Jedi Knight, you are incredibly self-serving at times!”

“ _I’m_ self serving!?” You shrill, flabbergasted at the insult. “I’m sorry, who was it that asked to assist the non-Republic planet of Mandalore? Who was it that stole my Florrum mission?”

“Mandalore was a mission the council _agreed_ on,” He seethes - his force signature burning bright with anger. “As for Florrum, I requested you _not_ be sent with me as I did not feel you were ready to fight the Sith - I never stole your mission. I was chosen specifically due to my history with Maul. This is _precisely_ what I was referring to - you twist the truth in your mind so that you can justify false assumptions!”

“Who are _you_ to decide whether I’m ready to fight the Sith?” You clutch on to this specifically; mind too clouded for you to just sit back and take responsibility for any of the truth to his words. “Master Windu is almost as great as Master Yoda - he would never have felt it appropriate to knight me if he believed my abilities were not good enough. Though I suppose you wouldn't understand that, seeing as you are so determined to keep your former padawan at your side!”

“Anakin and I are often assigned the same missions due to our success rate. I apologise if the success of the Order does not rank above your own ideals on what the Jedi should and should not be doing - though our different understanding of such matters certainly explains why I am the Master and _you_ the Knight.”

“Do you ever _hear_ yourself?” You snarl, voice quaking with barely contained rage. 

“You’re incorrigible!” 

“ _You’re_ an ass!”

He steps into your personal space as anger creates a fog over any sense of reason. He’s gazing down at you with a look of pure disdain; mouth pressed tight - yet the hot flush in his pale cheeks is still very much present. He’s close enough that his heavy breaths fan out across your face. Close enough that you can’t help but wonder if his skin would feel as soft as it had in your vision if you just reached out and--

“You’re acting like a bratty padawan, and I have had enough of it.”

You swallow to bite back the noise that wants to claw its way from your throat. Oh no. Your gut twists; liquifying at the rumble of his voice and the underlying threat in his words. Now _you_ feel flushed as heat rises all the way up into your chest, neck and face. _Padawan_. He’s spoken the word many times in your presence. _Bratty padawan_. You want to blame it on the plants and the visions, but it is your own mind that conjures the image that flashes unbridled behind your lids as you squeeze your eyes shut. Obi-Wan, above you this time, the flush still present in his cheeks as he calls you by that title. 

His bratty padawan.

You recoil, jumping backwards and stalking off behind the one tree trunk that has been trapped in the force field with you. _Kriff,_ you’re so turned on. So, so turned on. You're shaking with it. Your gut twists and burns, and you’re throbbing. _Aching._

All Jedi interpret the code in different ways. There is no set rulebook on how the code should be adhered to, just that it must be. When it comes to the rules on attachments, some Jedi remain entirely abstinent. Your Master, for example, informed you that he felt that this was the best way to prevent unwelcome emotions. However, when your eighteenth name day came, he made it clear that you are able to follow this aspect of the code in whatever way you see fit. 

You took a partner in the end. You were curious, and you found the experience enjoyable enough… but they became too attached. You had no choice but to cut it off, and you have not attempted to replace them since. It’s easier to remain abstinent. Less messy, and you are perfectly capable of pleasing yourself should the urge arise.

Until now, anyway.

Your arousal feels slick and hot with each step, so you give up on pacing. Stars. You’re _trapped_. You’re trapped with no one but Kenobi, trapped in a damned aphrodisiac of a forest with no way to call for help. Your throat tightens against the frustration that you just _have_ to endure, both in the irritating sense but also the… other kind.

You’ve never been this wet in your life, and he hasn’t even _touched you._

You can't just hide here forever. as tempting as it may be. No. You can do this. You’re a Jedi knight, damnit, not some dewy eyed citizen fawning over General Kenobi’s holo image. Steeling yourself, you stride back out from behind your retreat - determined to not let the stupid plants get the better of you. 

You find Kenobi standing at the edge of the barricade. He has his lightsaber in hand - though it has not been ignited - and he’s staring intently at the force field. He looks as agitated as you feel. Completely and utterly defeated. Desperate to get out of this force-forsaken place as soon as possible. It helps you feel a little better… You think...

“I am curious to see whether or not a lightsaber can break through, but the weaknesses tend to be short lived and entirely random. Without using the force, I doubt that I can successfully do it.”

“Is it a risk you’re willing to take?” your voice is heavy - but so is his. All you need to do is look down to see the evidence of his own struggle, yet you refuse to stare. He wouldn't embarrass you that way. He may infuriate you, but you _do_ respect him - and locking your gaze on something he cannot control strikes you as thoughtless... No matter how much you want to.

“A momentary lapse of control may be preferable to a slower, less noticeable loss of it,” he shrugs. “Though you may want to stand back.”

“I can do it,” you shake your head. “You’ve had to put up with this far longer than I have. With how long you’ve been out here you might… uh, it may be more taxing.”

He really does look worse for wear. Sweat has his mussed hair sticking to his forehead, his shoulders look impossibly tense; pupils blown and gaze glassy as he desperately searches for a weak spot. Obi-Wan is too far gone to succeed with this, though you do agree it’s a good idea. Under normal circumstances you think he would disagree with you taking over. Instead, he nods appreciatively. 

“Alright, I… thank you.”

You nod tersely, then head over to a spot a meter or so away from him. You study the force field for some time… Hoping that, eventually, you’ll stop throbbing enough to prevent your arousal soaking through to your leggings. You don’t. If anything, it just continually gets _worse._ Your tunics are sticking to your heated skin; the weight feels uncomfortable and scratchy. You pause to take another drink of water.

“Okay,” you breathe. “Alright. I’m gonna go for it.”

“May the force be with you as opposed to these wretched plants,” he huffs, and you nod your agreement.

Then, you close your eyes and reach out.

Without your vision, you are able to see far clearer. The force field is an unnatural intruder in this environment - and the forest is angry about it. It’s angry about all of its intruders… You included. This is possibly the most unsettling part of all. Is the plant life truly so sentient? Does it understand that you are a Jedi, and the level of damage that the aphrodisiac it releases can cause to relationships amongst the Order? Does it want you and Obi-Wan to break?

You cut your musings on this short when you spot it. The exact place you need to strike with your saber to break the field. You act quickly. Your lightsaber ignites with a thrum and crashes down without hesitation. _Please work. Please, please let me out of here._

You’re thrown back as a powerful blast of energy surges through you.

This time, you’re not in the forest. No. It’s worse. Far, far worse. The plants have successfully made sense of your darkest wants, and now they are reaching out to take advantage of them. It’s twilight, and you’re in the Council chambers. You don’t need to fully take in your surroundings to figure out where you’re sitting. You already know. You’re sitting in the spot you desperately avoid looking at whenever you enter this room. Usually, you’re worried about staring. So much so that it fills you with anger. 

As you sit in his chair, wet and throbbing and rapidly losing control, your weakness shines through. You think of how good he looks when he sits here. Lounging with his hands on the armrests, ankle resting on his opposing thigh. _Stars_ , he’s beautiful. Beautiful and strong and so, so good. An outstanding Jedi. A loyal and dedicated Master. A credit to the Order. You think of how lucky Anakin Skywalker has been to have had a master like Obi-Wan. How you wish your own Master had cared about you enough to want to go on missions with you after your knighthood.

“Are you waiting for me, padawan?”

He stands before you, grinning handsomely with his hands on his hips and sparks of arousal dancing through his force signature. He’s beautiful. His amber hair pushed back from his forehead, eyes gleaming with a mix of adoration and desire as he leans in closer.

“Always,” you whisper, your voice raw and tears pooling with the truth of it. 

_We told you_ , the forest projects. _We see you, and what you desire._

“I can’t,” you whisper back, but the vision of Obi-Wan does not falter. He stares at you with such need that your stomach gives that lurch you feel every time a ship jumps into hyperspace. He’s so close. It’s pretend, but you are drawn in by the intensity of it - wishing beyond all reason that it could be real.

“My, my. Are those tears for me?” The low chuckle that follows has you squirming. Stars, you’re so wet that you are sliding around under the layers of leggings and underwear. “I asked you a question.”

“Yes,” you gasp.

“Yes…?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Mmm,” he hums his appreciation as his eyes - near black with how blown out his pupils are - drift down to where you’re squeezing your thighs together. “Now, stand aside so that I can take my seat.”

You immediately jump up and out of his way, and the shame of such obedience causes another blush to heat your cheeks. He notices. He _must_ do, because he flashes you a cocky smirk as he leans back into the chair. “Look at you… I bet you’re dripping for me.”

“I am, Master,” you breathe. Fuck. You’re going to combust right here, right in the Council chambers. 

“Show me,” he instructs. He looks so at ease, a complete contrast to your state of utter ruin. You make quick work of peeling your leggings and underwear away, leaving you standing before him in nothing but your tunics. His hot gaze drops down to your thighs, and then he reaches up to part your tunics.

“Well, well, well,” those eyes are almost menacing as he looks up at you. “All this time you have deemed me nothing but a burden, and yet here you are - so wet for me. _Desperate_ for my touch.”

“Please, Master.”

“Sit,” he orders, then spreads his legs wide enough for you to fit between them. You do as he commands - clit throbbing in anticipation as he brings his hands to his knees. He spreads them as wide as the space allows, so that you can feel the heat of his body soaking through the fabric of his leggings. You wish you could feel his skin against yours again. _Fuck_ , you’d kill for it.

“Now, let me rid you of this,” his hands slide around your waist and stop at the clasp of your utility belt, which he flicks open with ease. Your outer tunics loosen without it holding them in place… He carefully sets the belt on the ground, and then his hands slide over your abdomen until he’s able to slip under the outer tunic. Your heart hammers in your chest. You can’t breathe. Nothing matters - nothing but the large, warm fingers sliding up and up and up. When he finally brushes a thumb over your nipple you gasp.

“I love the sounds you make,” he purrs, then nibbles softly at your earlobe. “I wonder how many I can draw from you? What sound will you make if I do this--” he pinches a peaked bud with his thumb and forefinger, then rolls it softly between them. You heave out the breath you had been holding and toss your head back onto his shoulder. “What about this?” He does the same with the other, pinching and rolling them both at exactly the same time. Scintillas of intense heat shoot straight to your swollen clit. If he spent a few seconds doing this you would be able to maintain your dignity, but he just keeps _going_. A long, needy whine escapes you as your eyes roll back in delight. 

“Yes,” you whimper, “Oh, Master. Please don't stop.” You roll your hips as he continues, which draws a low chuckle out of him.

“That won’t make a difference,” he rumbles in regard to your needy movements, his voice a rough baritone as his hot breath scorches your cheek. “I’m in no hurry, and you have _years_ of a bratty attitude to make up for. If you are so desperate to be a good little padawan, then I expect you to take every touch as I see fit - until you're _crying_ for me to bury myself deep inside you.”

You shudder on a high-pitched moan; the filth of his words causing you to contract around nothing. The promise, combined with his assault on your nipples, causes you to become impossibly wetter. It drips from you and presumably coats the leather of his chair’s padding, but he makes no move to give your weeping cunt an ounce of attention.

“Do you think you could cum for me like this?” He whispers. “I’d like to see you try… I’ll keep kissing that spot on your neck you love so much, and perhaps that will be enough. You’ll tell me if you’re getting close won’t you, darling?”

“Y-yes, Master.”

It’s like you're an open book with how he reads you. Each twist, flick and roll of his fingers draws all sorts of whimpers and whines from you. You can hear your racing heartbeat in your ears. Your mouth is as dry as the sands of Tattooine, and yet so much wetness continues to drip from you. Oh, it hurts. You’re cramping with desperation for something. _Anything_. You’re pulsing - aching and contracting, but even as your body screams for more you can feel yourself ascending to orgasm. It’s far weaker than the one you crave, but undeniably present. 

“I can feel it,” he mutters excitedly, “Maker, you're _desperate_. I imagine you’d take me easily - that I could slide into you with one thrust. Without any resistance at all.”

“I could take it,” you gasp, nodding sharply. “ _Please_ Master, I want you inside me. I want to cum while you fuck me.”

“Watch your mouth,” he snaps condescendingly. “I expect sweeter words from a padawan’s tongue.”

“Yes, Master. Sorry, Master.”

Speaking _hurts_. Your throat feels so tight and dry from all the heaving breaths and needy mewls you’re releasing. His tweaking motions become harsher, turning the scintillas into bolts of pure lightning-- you arch your back, arms and legs trembling as your lower body cramps up painfully at the lack of attention.

“Master _please, please, please._ I’ll be good. I’ll be-- nngh, so good. So good.”

“Yes you will,” he sounds breathless; captivated by a show of his own design. 

“M’gonna cum,” You cry, the words scraping shrilly from your throat. “G-gonna ffff--ah, pleasedon’tstopIneed--”

You're on the forest floor when you come back to your senses - and choking as a sharp intake of breath clogs your airways with that _kriffing pollen._ He calls your name, though it holds none of the quiet, patient lust it had moments ago. He’s kneeling as your side, wide-eyed as he looks you over for obvious signs of injury. “Are you alright?”

The forest. The separatist trap. Right… Yes. You’re trapped. You need to escape, and you had just attempted to shatter the force field caging you in. You force your aching arms to push you up, and Kenobi places a hand on your back to help you sit upright.

 _Oh._ Your body responds to the simple touch much like a firework; exploding with a desperate need for more. For the hand to go lower. For it to slide below the waistband of your pants and-- you hang your head in your hands as you cramp up, throbbing achingly for something you cannot have.

“I can't do this,” you sob. “I can’t do it. It _hurts._ ”

Obi-Wan removes his hand, but you can still feel him beside you. 

“Did you have another vision?” He asks, quiet sympathy in his tone.

“Yes,” you allow your hands to fall from your face so that you can gauge his reaction. “It felt like it went on forever. The forest… it’s angry at us. Trying to punish us in the only way it knows how.”

“Your attempt to free us didn't work,” he finally informs you, and tears spill down your cheeks as you squeeze your eyes closed. “I’m certain that droids will be sent along soon, though. It won't be for much longer.”

“I _can't_ ,” you sob. “It hurts so much. I need it to stop-- I can't breathe. I’m too hot, and all I can think about is your--” your eyes fly open as you catch yourself a second too late. Oh no. Kriffing hell. Son of a-- you did not just - just say that. No. Where’s your lightsaber? You scan the area, burning up with a shame so deep it could swallow you whole. 

When a warm, calloused hand takes your cheek in its palm and forces you to face him once more - your breathing stops.

“Would you like me to help?” He whispers. Stars, he looks to be as flustered as you are. His whole face is red, and the hand on your cheek trembles so softly that it's _just_ noticeable. You swallow thickly, adrenaline flooding your system. You shouldn't be doing this. He shouldn't be asking this. The one aspect of the code the Jedi are clear on is that relations between two Jedi are completely forbidden… 

But you want him. You’ve wanted him for so long. He’s beautiful and he’s here, offering you the only thing you have ever selfishly craved for yourself in your _life._

“Help?” You sound so small. Stars, you whet your lips with your tongue - and find his eyes dart down to watch you do it.

“I can… ease it for you. If you’d like me to.”

You feel like your heart is going to burst from your chest. You can't say it. Not out loud, but you hope that he catches the way you tilt your head up and then down in a small nod. He does. You know from the relieved breath he releases, and then his eyes change. The tenderness is swallowed up by something else. Something that twists your stomach and makes you ache even _more_.

And then, Obi-Wan Kenobi presses two fingers over your clit.

You gasp at the sheer relief of receiving contact where you need it most. He touches you over your clothes, but you’re so wet that the pressure has him gliding over you so deliciously that you shudder underneath the circles he traces. You’re surprised to realise that he is actually skilled at this. Does… does he know what he’s doing? 

“You’ve done this before,” you moan, and a smile breaks out across his darkened features.

“I’m certainly not celibate,” he rasps, and the sound of it is so utterly sexy that you let out a needy whine.

“I need more.” Stars, it’s not enough. You battle with the belt of your tunics as he draws back - pupils blown wide as his chest heaves with each breath.

“Do you want to--?”

“Yes!” You nod feverously, “Please!”

With your belt gone and tunics loosened, he reaches up underneath them and dips his fingers under the hemline of both your pants and underwear. The skin-to-skin contact has your breath catching - and the look of pure want he bestows upon you has your insides twisting with need--

“I’ve found it!” A familiar, robotic voice calls. “I found the triggered trap - and it’s caught _two_ Jedi!”

You’ve never moved so fast. Obi-Wan leaps to his feet, and you quickly call upon the force to guide your missing lightsaber to your hand. Fuck. You're noticeably trembling, breathing heavy and - well, just an all around mess after being tortured by arousal and rolling around in the pollen. The battle droid is devoid of a colour signifying its rank, but it is flanked by two other droids. The trio are staring at you with their blasters raised.

“Get them!” The one on the left yells, then releases three shots from its weapon. The other two duck - quickly realising what is about to happen. The bolts bounce off the shield as soon as they hit and fly back towards them. Obi-Wan lets out an exasperated sigh… and something about the insanity of the situation causes you to snap. It’s a ridiculous reaction. When you look back, you’re sure you’ll cringe at the memory - but you’re so worn down that a burst of laughter has you doubling over.

“Hey - is she laughing at _us_!?”

“Probably, you idiot - you can't fire into those fields!”

“Well nobody told _me_ that!”

The droids continue their argument, but you’re not really listening. Your stomach hurts and you’re wheezing, but something about it brings such a wave of relief. The tension has been razor sharp and brutal for so long. You’re still horrifically turned on, and part of you is screaming at the interruption, yet you can't stop the unending wave of laughter.

“Knight,” Obi-Wan tries to sound admonishing, but you can hear him chuckling beside you too. Clearly your amusement is infectious. “Stand up, they’re about to release us.”

“Release us?” You look up through your tears to see that they have found the control panel, and quickly recognise what is about to happen. The droids are idiotic enough to take your trap down before contacting their separatist general. You’re going to escape. You’re almost free.

You’re laughing so hard when the force field goes down that Obi-Wan has to deal with the droids on his own.


	2. Euphoria

Travelling through hyperspace on the Negotiator is far cooler than the stifling climate of that dreadful moon. With distance, a medical examination, stims to nullify the blasted pollen and a much needed shower - you should be feeling relieved. Grateful. Happy to be returning to the Temple.

Yet, you only feel a deep rooted sense of humiliation.

You have been sitting on your cot wearing naught but a towel for a standard hour, now. Typically this would not be a problem for you. Meditation is crucial in maintaining control of emotion, as a Jedi. Feelings cannot be allowed to dictate reactions, for this can only result in impaired judgement… But the thought of meditation has your stomach turning with nausea. 

Never, in all your years as a Jedi, has the force been used against you like that. That flora-- it invaded the minds of both a Jedi Knight _and_ Master with little to no resistance. Because resistance was futile. You were utterly powerless to its spell, and now you have to live with the end result. Live with the knowledge that you almost broke the code so spectacularly. Live with the fact that you _wanted_ to…

And, worst of all, live with the realisation that you _still_ want to.

You bite your lower lip as it begins to wobble and head back into the refresher. As you tidy up the half-dried mess that is your hair, you focus on the breathing techniques taught to you as a youngling. These are the very basics used to help keep emotions in check. A tool that you have not had to use in many years, yet with your fear of meditation you have little choice. Breathe in through the nose for four seconds, hold for eight, and release. 

Repeating the motion is helpful. By the time you have fixed your hair and dressed yourself, you’re able to breathe without feeling like you could break out into a sobbing episode. 

“This feels like a poorly written holodrama,” You mutter to yourself. You can picture it now - one of those ridiculous fans shooting a scene between two Jedi, totally overcome with a desire neither can fight any longer… Though you suspect it would result in a lightsaber duel with ‘hidden meaning’ rather than the tryst _you_ nearly experienced--

A beep at the door panel draws your attention away from your musings. 

“Who is it?” Your voice sounds as weary as you feel, you realise a moment too late.

“It’s me. I… Would like to talk.”

You glare daggers at the door and curse under your breath. _Fantastic_. You had thought he might want to avoid you for the rest of your lifetime, but apparently _not_. Against your wishes, you feel your cheeks heat up as you look down at the bodysuit given to you by the clones. Stars, could he at least wait until you’re able to dress a little more decently? You want to tell him no. To leave you alone and maybe ask you again in a few days… but you also understand that this situation is unique, and it would probably be a good idea to figure out what you’re going to relay to the council once you get back to Coruscant.

“It’s open,” you call out in defeat.

With no other seating options, you perch yourself on your bunk as Obi-Wan steps into the room. He’s cleaned himself up too, judging by the lack of pollen and his slightly damp hair. He is also dressed in an exact replica of your own bodysuit. _Great_. You let out a huff of air as you find yourself drawn to how it clings to his physique-- and quickly force your eyes to the ground.

“I apologise if I’m intruding,” he murmurs. “I understand speaking with me is perhaps the last thing you want to do right now, but I want to apologise.”

You look up. Out of all the reasons he may have had for coming here, an apology was the last thing you’d expected… 

“I understand that getting stuck there wasn’t intentional,” you admit, but Obi-Wan shakes his head.

“As appreciative as I am for your understanding in _that_ respect, I am here to apologise for my indecent actions.”

He looks… distraught. His brows are almost knitted together as he stares at you with guilt-riddled eyes.

“I have no valid excuse for what I did,” his voice shakes - as though it’s taking a great deal of effort to speak clearly. “Yes, the pollen clouded my judgement, but the way I reacted was unacceptable regardless of that. You are well within your rights to refuse my apology, but I need you to know that I am truly, deeply sorry.”

His distress is so prominent that you actually feel a pang of his grief as though it’s your own… and yet you’re still at a complete loss. 

“I’m sorry, but I don’t actually know what you’re apologising _for_. Could you be more specific?”

“Do you truly think so low of me?” He snaps so suddenly that you jump. “I have patience, but _please_ do not mock me when I am trying--”

“I’m not!” You raise your hands in surrender, “ _Stars_ , Obi-Wan, I’m not mocking you - I can see you’re being sincere. I figured you were apologising for getting us stuck out there, but you’re clearly not so I would like to know what else you think you did wrong.”

“I took advantage of you,” He chokes, then swallows hard. His face fills with anguish as he runs a hand through his hair. “Please know I didn’t mean to, and I feel absolutely terrible about it. I can respect that you dislike me for other reasons, but I never want you to look at me with disgust because of my actions on that moon.”

Oh. _Oh._ He’s apologising for asking if you needed help. You feel your face flush again at the memory of it. He thinks you’ll be angry at him. But you’re not, and now you’re going to have to admit that to alleviate his guilt.

And he’s going to want to know _why_ you’re not mad.

“Obi-Wan,” You squeeze your eyes shut, as though not seeing him will make this less agonising. “I’m not mad at you. You had my consent. Nothing happened that I didn’t willingly agree to. You don’t need to beat yourself up over this.”

“Your judgement was impaired--”

“So was yours,” You remind him - allowing your eyes to meet now you feel a little more confident. “I can’t imagine I’m exactly the woman of your dreams. I’ve been nothing but rude to you. I doubt you ever considered touching me before all of this.”

He blinks as though he is startled by your words; and the expression he now wears would be comical if the realisation it brings didn’t turn your galaxy upside down.

He has.

You think your heart temporarily stops beating with how it drops into your stomach. Stars, you can’t hide it. It must be written all over _your_ face. Kenobi. Obi-Wan Kenobi. Jedi _Master_ Obi-Wan Kenobi has… He’s fantasised about _you_? About a lower ranking Knight who has been nothing but snappy and mean to him? 

“That’s why you’re here,” you breathe, “Because you think… You think your thoughts from before this influenced your actions?”

His eyes are soft as he nods. Though he remains stoic in the way he stands with his hands clasped behind his back, you notice the pink tinge to his freckled cheeks. “I am sorry. Sorry for what happened, and sorry for the… inappropriate nature of some of my thoughts. I am a Jedi, but also human. Nevertheless, I fear I have tarnished your opinion of me.”

“You’re an insufferable man who doesn’t know when to shut up,” You raise a brow and fold your arms, “There was no positive opinion to ruin, so don’t worry about it.”

You had expected him to chuckle along with you or something. Instead, he says your name. Just your name - but his voice drops into a lower, disapproving tone. The tone is trying to convey that he wants this moment to be taken seriously. You know that… Yet your breath catches in your throat, and suddenly you find yourself at a loss for words.

Your gaze drops from his. Down to where the bodysuit hugs his shoulders and chest; clings to his hips and teases what lies at the apex of his defined thighs. You swear your gut melts at the sight he makes, and you wonder what he might look like were you to peel the suit away. He says your name again, and when you look up his eyes are seeking something from the depths of yours. You lick the dryness from your parted lips.

“The jungle showed you the two of us, didn’t it?”

You nod slowly, not trusting your voice to sound as clear as his own. 

“It also said it knew what I desired,” He strokes his beard, “Does that mean it did the same for you?”

You could shake your head. Deny it. Yell at him for being so intrusive and throw him out. You _could_ … 

“That’s a dangerous question,” you murmur.

“Have we not already blurred the lines of propriety?” 

“We were under the influence of something external. Something that holds a lot of power in the force.”

“Yes,” When did he get so close? “But the flora only had the power to draw upon attractions that existed _before_ our arrival… Or are you going to tell me that I am wrong?”

You should. You really, really should. But he’s standing two or three inches away, and those gorgeous blue eyes of his are on fire. The blaze is catching - spreading heat through your tummy and making you throb.

“No,” Your heart is in your throat, “It’d be a lie.”

The smile that tugs at his lips has your stomach swooping. Then his hand settles itself on your hip, and even though the touch is soft it evokes a breathy gasp from you. 

“If that is the case, and with the damage that has already been done…” He finally sounds a little frazzled as his voice takes on a breathless edge, and it’s this loss of composure that has you grasping the front of his bodysuit and pulling his lips to yours.

He chokes back a moan as you push inwards, exploring his mouth with your tongue and allowing your free hand to entangle itself in his hair. It’s thick and soft against your fingers; contrasting with the grip he suddenly has of your ass. 

Obi-Wan Kenobi is kissing you.

Obi-Wan Kenobi just _grabbed your ass_.

You whine as he does it again, and heat pools between your legs as his kisses trail down from your lips to your throat. You tug him back with you so that he’s pressing you against the wall, and when he realises where you have led him to he flashes you a dazzling smirk.

“Darling, you can use your words if you want something from me.”

“Keep talking.”

“Really?” The deep rumble of laughter that follows has you melting between your thighs. “You just told me that I don’t know when to shut up, and now you want me to keep going?” He strokes a hand over your ass again, and you choke as it sends sparks straight to your clit. “Would you like me to tell you of all the wicked thoughts I’ve had of you? Of how I have to meditate whenever I catch you mid-battle in the training rooms? Because all I want to do is press you up against the mats and slide my fingers inside you--”

“Obi--” Your breath hitches as he buries his nose into your neck and inhales deeply. When he does exhale, his voice deepens into a velvety groan. 

“How do you want me?” His lips brush the shell of your ear, “Use your words.”

Your head spins with possibilities. You didn’t… He’s so _vocal_ . So calm. In complete control. Quietly dominating and an absolute _tease_. The rich baritone of his voice stokes the fire of your desire as his hot breaths hit your neck and beard tickles your cheek-- just these simple sensations would be enough to send you into overdrive, but his hands are still stroking and cupping your ass--

“Touch me,” your voice is a pathetic rasp, “need to cum.”

“But _how_?” He purrs before nipping your earlobe.

“Shh--nngh. Anyhow!”

“Now, now,” he sighs, allowing his right hand to glide up your hip and stomach until it can sit at your collar, “I want you to remember this, darling. I want it to be something you can think about whenever you find yourself alone and wanting. So, tell me _exactly_ what you want - or you will get nothing.”

A flush rises up your chest and into your face as you try to steady yourself. Alright. He is literally giving you a free pass to use him however you want, damnit, so you need to pull yourself together and actually think about this. The code has already been broken - so you may as well take a sledgehammer and go all out with shattering it.

By letting him shatter you.

You push at his chest slightly - just enough so that his darkened gaze can meet your own. _Kriffing hell_ , he’s downright gorgeous. It’s not fair. No Jedi has any right looking this good. It’s not fair on the rest of the galaxy - or the members of the order who are cruelly told that they can only look but never touch.

“I want to sit on the cot and have you get on your knees,” You murmur, then lower your gaze so you can watch your hand trail up his neck to his cheek. “Then I want you to hold my legs open and use your mouth on me until I can't breathe. Then, when you think you’ll never be able to get my taste out of your mouth, I want you to fuck me however _you_ want to. Slow. Fast. Soft. Hard… Doesn't matter. I just want you, _Master_.”

He lets out a gruff chuckle at the use of his title. His chest shakes against your own.

“Is that what you want me to be?” He breathes, pinching the zipper of your suit and pulling it down. “Your Master?”

“You can be whatever you want as long as you’re making me cum,” you quip. “Think you’re up to it?”

“You always think so little of me…” his voice is musing as he slides his hand down inside the opening at your front. Shit. Your breathing stutters as his fingers trail a warm pattern downwards. He is careful not to brush your clit, but two fingers trace your lips - and its enough to have you cursing.

“This is the problem with you, my dear. You always save your sharpest words for me - yet I’ve barely touched you and you’re already so wet...”

He’s not wrong, and you wish you could blame it on that blasted pollen. You grit your teeth.

“I can get myself off if you’d rather stand and chat.”

He chuckles again. “I thought you wanted me to keep talking.”

“Not to mock me.”

“Oh, I’m not mocking,” He leans down to place a wet, open-mouthed kiss at your throat. “Do you know how much this is turning me on? Having you slowly descend into your basest desires - because of me? I have wanted to alter your perception of me for so long…”

“This isn’t going to-- _oh_ \--” his middle finger slides up and flicks your clit, causing you to seize up at the sudden burst of pleasure. But he doesn't stop there. No. He just keeps _going_ \- stroking you in the exact way you love most. Your head falls back as he keeps on kissing your neck, and you find yourself grasping his shoulders and rocking your hips to chase the sensation. “Fuck, yes!”

“Forgive me,” he continues his gruelling pace, “You were saying?”

Saying? You were saying… something. 

“Don't stop,” You hiss, grasping handfuls of his suit. It’s so good. His touch is feather-light and just the right tempo between fast and slow. It’s exactly how you’d touch yourself, only better because it’s _his_ hand between your thighs. He just _keeps going_ , going and going until you feel your legs begin to tremble and that familiar coil tighten as you ascend closer and closer until--

He stops.

“Sorry, I appear to have gotten carried away. I distinctly recall that you wanted me to use my mouth.”

“You son of a--”

He silences you with his lips. His satisfaction is a pleasant hum in the force, coupling sweetly with his amusement even as you want to wrangle him for edging you like that. He deepens your kiss quickly; brushing his tongue against your own before flicking the tip as though he wants to give you a - quite literal - taste of his prowess.

You moan at the realisation, and he finally begins peeling the suit down your arms. 

The cabin air feels cool against your increasingly exposed skin. You hadn't even realised how hot you were, but having Obi-Wan free you from these confines is beyond welcome. The fabric pools at your waist… and you’re wearing nothing underneath. 

You’ll never forget the sight of Obi-Wan Kenobi’s auburn hair falling into his eyes as he leans down to latch his mouth onto your nipple. You let out a rattled gasp, and then your hands are winding themselves back into the softness of it to keep him exactly where he is. He sucks first, then adds delicate flicks of his tongue that have your thighs clenching and a moan spilling from your lips as he then grazes it with his teeth. Each sensation sends sparks of heat coiling down to your throbbing clit; forcing you to rut against nothing until he pulls his mouth away-- but the new position allows him to push his thigh between yours. 

_Fuck_ , you love his thighs. Muscular and thick, they’ve starred in a number of fantasies and now he’s letting you _use one_ to--

“You would use any part of me, wouldn't you?” His voice is almost a growl - and the depth of it has you grinding that much harder. Are you projecting your thoughts? 

“I’m so f-fucking turned on,” You almost slur the words. You can't keep up the act anymore. All airs of pretence have been tossed aside between him edging you and talking like _that_.

“You’re breathtaking like this,” he draws back, ignoring your disapproving whine. “Take off the rest and make yourself comfortable.”

You almost stumble in your haste to get rid of the stupid bodysuit, because you’re caught between watching where you step and watching him peel off his own. He catches you staring as he gets as far as his waist. Blue eyes with pupils blown wide meet yours, and he flashes you a crooked smile.

“Sit.”

You do as he commands, perching on the edge of the cot as you would normally. Oh, the way he’s looking at you. The way the hair on his defined chest trails down to the V of that kriffing suit. You feel yourself getting wetter as he steps forward and nudges your legs apart. He sinks to his knees slowly, and you think it might be the most sensual thing you’ve ever watched. His eyes are on yours the entire time; that crooked smile still in place as his hands cup your knees and push them further apart. He lifts your right leg and hooks it over his bare shoulder, and the skin-to-skin contact has you boiling up inside. Calloused fingers trace patterns on your inner thighs. He keeps his eyes firmly locked on yours as he places a chaste kiss to your hip.

Your head is spinning with how hot this is. There are no thoughts left to be had - everything is just _Obi-Wan_. His blue eyes. His freckle-covered skin. The tickle of his beard. The feeling of his short fingernails drawing teasing patterns on your hyper-sensitive skin. The heat of his open-mouthed kisses as he trails down from your hip to the crevice just by the apex of your thighs. You’re throbbing. Aching desperately. You lean your weight back on your right hand as the left combs through his hair - fingernails stroking his scalp and evoking a purr from the Jedi Master before you.

“ _Please_ ,” you beg, because hearing him make that sound has you cramping up with another wave of need--

His tongue flattens out against your clit, and your brain completely short circuits.

 _Heat_. The negotiator’s tongue laps at you as though your cunt is a meal, flicking the bundle of nerves that has a fire spreading up into your tummy. Your entire lower body tenses up as your exhales become choked whimpers and moans. You tighten your hold on his hair, and he must like that too because he moans - only this time the vibration of it hits you--

“ _Fuck_ ,” you open your eyes. There he is. Buried between your legs, auburn hair blocking your view but - _shit_ \- if it isn’t the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen in your whole life. You watch the muscles of his arms tense up as he pulls you closer, and then his tongue is delving into your opening. At this angle his nose brushes your clit, and you know it’s probably not wise but your body is reacting far quicker than your brain - you rock your hips against him, and choke in sheer bliss.

_Do you think you can cum like this?_

His voice is in your head. _In your head_. He’s so kriffing talented with the force that he can project tangible thoughts into your damn mind! You moan brokenly, continuing to rock against him - and eventually you’re able to register what he asked. Whilst it is all beyond incredible, you’re not sure this position will allow you to hit that peak. Your legs are too far apart, and you’re not quite able to get the leverage you need to rut against him at your own pace.

“No,” you finally manage to reply. He slows down when he hears it, then pulls back to look up at you.

By the _force_ , you’re almost able to cum untouched at that. His eyes are hooded and cheeks flushed - and his beard is almost completely coated in your arousal. He licks your taste from his lips as he breathes deeply; presumably to catch his breath. The tip of his nose glistens too as the light catches it, and there’s no way he doesn't notice you clenching against nothing at the sight he makes.

“Perhaps it will be easier if you sit on my face.”

His voice is the huskiest you’ve ever heard, and it strikes you that this is probably not the first time that Obi-Wan Kenobi has wanted you to do that. Impossibly, you feel yourself flushing deeper as he grabs the pillow from your cot and places it on the ground. The sleeping arrangements are far too small to allow for you to do that there, so he lounges back.

You don’t need to be told twice. Your legs feel unstable under your own weight, but you manage to lower yourself so that you get the _perfect_ sight of him gazing up at you from between your thighs. 

“So fucking hot,” you hiss, taking a moment to wind your hand back into his hair. His eyes flutter closed - and you lower yourself enough to let him continue.

 _So much better_ , you have to admit to yourself as he grabs your hips and slots his tongue into the seam of your cunt. He adds suction by closing his lips around you, and flicks his tongue each time your clit reaches him in your stuttering race to completion. The room is filled with your breathy moans. You squeeze your eyes closed and let your head drop back as he hits all the right places every kriffing time. He hums his delight at your building pleasure, and your legs begin to tremble.

 _That's right, darling. Keep going. I want to taste you as you cum in my mouth_.

“Sh-- _fuck_!” 

You were already teetering on the edge. You have been for a while, but having Obi-Wan’s disembodied voice say _that_ has you flying over it at hyperspeed. Your body tenses and thighs clamp tightly as he lifts his head enough to make sure you can't escape the way he’s working you. You cry out in rapture as your orgasm threatens to tear you apart. Stars go nuclear behind your eyes as the ecstasy of release has your pace halting and body going limp. You go to lift yourself off him, but Obi-Wan just follows until you’re the one on your back and he’s able to reap the rewards of his hard work and lack of breathing.

You’re trembling under his hold. Gasping for air, with your hair sticking to the sweat coating your skin. Yet you feel _amazing_. Absolutely incredible. When you're able to finally open your eyes, you think that the heavily aroused Jedi Master before you may actually be divine. He stops his gentle lapping of you to push himself up, and you can do nothing but lazily watch as he rids himself of the rest of his suit.

He’s perfect. _Stars_ , so perfect. He’s so hard that his reddish-purple tip curves up to hit against his pubic region, which is covered with neatly trimmed hair. You push yourself into a sitting position so that you can scoot closer. His breaths are quick and desperate as he watched you spit into your hand… When it's sufficiently wet, you reach out and wrap your fingers around the head.

“ _Yes_ ,” he gasps, eyes dropping to where you softly begin pumping him. He's throbbing under your touch - and twitches each time you stroke your thumb over the tip to spread the pre-cum beading there. “Lay back.”

You grab the pillow he’d used and place it under your own head. 

“Some other time, I’ll bury myself into that bratty mouth of yours - use it to make me feel _good_ instead of letting you snap those snide remarks at me. But for now, I want to know what you feel like as you hit your second orgasm wrapped entirely around me.”

If the sight of his cock wasn't enough to get you going again, his words certainly are. _Fuck_ , you want him in your mouth. You imagine it - hand in your hair as he thrusts himself into you however he likes. Using you until tears stream down your cheeks. He plants his left hand beside your head as he takes himself in his right, and then your eyes are level and locked onto the other’s as he strokes himself over you. Slides your arousal all over his cock so that he can take you with ease.

“I never hated you,” You whisper, cupping his cheek and pushing yourself up to catch his lips in a kiss far softer than any of the others you’ve shared. You have to tell him. The sudden urge to admit it is overbearing. He returns your kiss in earnest. He still tastes like you. 

“I know,” his voice is an affectionate caress that eases the deepest of your worries, and then he slowly brings his hips forward to make the first breach of your entrance.

The pleasant burn of being stretched and filled has you shuddering and grasping onto his shoulders. He lets out a hot, heavy breath and you feel his arms flex as he fights the urge to completely sink himself into you on the first thrust. You bring both hands to the back of his head and pull him down into a kiss that threatens to make you both completely breathless, but this gives him the distraction he needs to keep going slowly enough to let you accommodate him.

“Wanted this for so long,” His voice is ragged despite his whispered words, “Couldn't fight it - don’t want to. If they find out…”

“They won’t,” you kiss his cheek, “No one has to know. The council has a war to worry about - this doesn't matter. Can be our secret.”

“Ours,” he speaks the word as though tasting it, and when he kisses you again you can feel him smiling against your lips. “Yes.”

He pulls out and thrusts back in slowly, and you both moan at the ease of the movement and how _good_ it feels. He does it again and your breath catches in your throat, and then he keeps going. You wrap your legs around his hips and begin meeting his thrusts with your own, taking him deeper and faster as you both work together. No longer is Obi-Wan Kenobi teasing you. That calm, witty humour that he always carries around is gone as he slides his left hand between you to pinch at your taut nipple. You sigh wantonly and run your nails up the nape of his neck and scalp, and he groans headily before using the force to help pick you up. 

You almost squeal at the sudden shift, but then your back is against the wall and his hands hold your hips in place as he rocks into you with a pace that has you crying out. He’s found that spot. The one that has the blue streaks of hyperspace dancing behind your eyes and pussy clenching around him. 

“ _Fuck_ ,” He growls, “Taking me so well.”

Oh _stars_ oh force be damned he absolutely did _not_ just say that but _yes_ he did and you want _more_ \--

“Yes,” You stammer, “taking you well. So well. Always w-will.”

He doesn't pause in his pace, but you do feel a shift in his force signature as the realisation dawns on him. _You love praise._

“You're taking your Master’s cock _so_ well. Such a good girl.”

“ _Fuck_ yes!” You nod feverously, pussy clenching so hard that he lets out a strangled moan as his pace falters, “Please, Master. Don’t stop.”

“Is th-this all you needed,” He grits out roughly as he rocks his hips into yours. You can _hear_ how wet you are as he slaps against you with each thrust. “All my sweet little padawan needed?”

He tags on the last part so quietly that you almost miss it. You think he might _mean_ for you to miss it - the admission of such a kink is probably something he’d be wracked by guilt with otherwise… But you burn up that much hotter at hearing him call you that. Just like the flora’s projection of him did. You’re so close. Each stroke is stoking such a fierce fire in you that you think your second orgasm may actually be stronger than the first.

“I’ll be a good padawan,” you pull yourself together enough to make sure your voice drips with honey, “such a _good_ padawan if you cum inside me, Master.”

Obi-Wan lets out an unflattering moan as he presses you tight against the wall and pulses inside of you. He’s cumming. A surprised cry claws its way out of his throat as he buries himself to the hilt and has half a mind to reach down and stroke your clit. You tense and sob as you’ve no choice but to follow - completely blown apart by how hot his surprise orgasm was combined with the feeling of him coating your insides with it. He moans unashamedly as you contract around him.

 _Fuck_. You strain under the way he keeps working you with his fingers. _Fuck_ that was-- that was _hot_. How are you ever going to get past this? How are you ever going to step foot into the council chambers again and _not_ get wet thinking about how he pinned you against a wall and roughly fucked you whilst calling you his sweet little padawan? His good girl? About how you were able to drive him as equally insane with lust - so much so that he came so suddenly in your arms?

 _You're terrible at hiding your thoughts_ , he speaks directly into your mind, and you moan again.

“That was - incredible,” You pant.

“Indescribable,” he hums in agreement, then leans in to capture your lips in a tender kiss. You stay like that for a while - pressed up against the wall with Obi-Wan’s softening cock inside you as he kisses you with all the tenderness in the galaxy. You have to break it up when his tongue begins brushing yours - not trusting your body to rule out the need for a third orgasm after the first two have completely annihilated you. You both let out unsteady breaths as he slides out of you, and he leans down to place a kiss against your forehead.

“If that flora hadn't been so overbearing, I would be thanking it right now,” He muses. 

“C’mon,” You lay a quick slap on his ass as you pass, “Lets go shower. Again.”

Obi-Wan doesn't need to be told twice.


End file.
